


sitting on an overpass, screaming at the cars

by puckiety



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: 80s AU, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Anakin is a corporate lackey, Everyone Hates Capitalism, Han drives a van, Mara Jade will eventually make an appearance, Multi, Obi-Wan is a monk, So will Lando, there'll be more characters, this is just For Now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-14 08:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15384786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puckiety/pseuds/puckiety
Summary: "The whole affair is Ben’s fault - at least, that’s what Luke’s father says.  After all, it was Ben who prompted him to drive across the country just for a quote-en-quote “talk” - a talk which ended in one tp’d Beverly Hills mansion, a very angry CEO, and a whole new generation of relationship drama in the Skywalker family."Or,It's 1988, and 17 year-old Luke and Leia Skywalker go on a road trip with Han, Chewbacca, and Wedge to teepee Palpatine's house in Beverly Hills.





	1. where i come from isn't all that great

The whole affair is Ben’s fault - at least, that’s what Luke’s father says.  After all, it was Ben who prompted him to drive across the country just for a quote-en-quote “talk” - a talk which ended in one tp’d Beverly Hills mansion, a very angry CEO, and a whole new generation of relationship drama in the Skywalker family.

But if one really thinks about it (at least, this is what Luke figures), it’s all Aunt Beru’s fault.  She’s the one who pushed Luke to go to Bible Study anyway, which is why he started talking to Father Ben about his familial issues, which is why Ben told him to go visit his father.  If Beru had listened to Uncle Owen, Luke would have continued living a life where the word of God had no impact on his everyday actions, let alone the word of one of God’s rather more questionable followers.

(That was how Uncle Owen referred to Ben, anyway; he’d never liked the older man, possibly because of his friendship with Luke’s father - before Luke’s father threw out his rosary and sold his soul to a capitalistic devil, aka going to the “dark side”.  Those were Ben’s words, not Luke’s.)

And if one looked at it from a certain point of view, it was Anakin who began the whole affair.  He was the one who couldn’t be bothered to take care of his children after Padme died, which led inevitably to the Skywalker twins being split up.  Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru took in Luke, citing that they had an actual blood relation, while Leia was left to the care of Bail Organa, whom they called “Uncle” but was really just an associate of their mother’s.  Beru often tried to reassure Luke that they would have taken Leia in, too, had they the income necessary to raise two children, but Luke’s never believed it - not really.  He didn’t know the real reason he and his sister had to be separated, but he knew it isn’t what his aunt and uncle tell him.

(Granted, Albany wasn’t exactly far away from their New York farm, but it was far enough that Luke only saw his twin for holidays, and otherwise spoke only through letters or over the phone.)

In the end, it doesn’t matter whose fault it is, who pushed Luke into such a reckless course of action. What does matter is what he did on the way to that great big mansion belonging to his father’s boss.

The answer? Quite a bit.

\--

“Hey, Aunt Beru?”

He barely pokes his head around the corner into the kitchen; Beru is elbow-deep in some floury mixture, probably cookies of some sort.  For a second, Luke is almost sorry that he’s leaving before they get out of the oven - but only almost.  He’s already packed, and Han’s on his way; all that leaves is to convince his Aunt that it’s all his father’s idea.

“What is it, Luke?”

“Dad wants his yearly visitation.”

Beru pauses, and her lips purse into what Luke likes to think of as her Very Unamused face.  He winces, wondering if she’s going to say he can’t go - or if she’s going to ask too many questions.  But after a moment she sighs, her eyes falling closed, and she says, “Okay.  I suppose we can’t stop him.  When is he taking you?”

Luke laughs a little, and he knows it sounds nervous but he’s always been terrible at lying, especially to his aunt and uncle.  “Actually, when I called him today he said he’d sent us a letter.  His driver is set to arrive today.”

Beru turns and pins him with a flat look. “Today?”

Luke nods, hopefully convincingly. “I told him we never got a letter - it probably got lost in the mail?”

There’s a moment of silence as Aunt Beru stares him down, waiting for him to flinch.  Luke continues looking apologetic, and finally she lets out another sigh.  This one sounds very tired.  “Today,” she repeats under her breath, then, “I swear, that man will be the death of me.”

Luke waits in silence for her to deliver the final judgement - yes, he can go, or no, he can’t.  Beru shakes her head a little, sighs _again,_ and finally speaks.

“Fine,” she says, then, “Your uncle won’t be happy about this.”

“Thanks, Aunt Beru!” he chirps, kissing her cheek, “The driver’ll be here any minute, love ya, bye!”

“Luke, wait - ”

But he’s already halfway down the hall to where his suitcase waits at the door, his guitar case leaning against it. He pulls his key off the hook, slides his guitar onto his back, and wraps his fingers around the handle of his suitcase.  Before his aunt can catch up to him, Luke tugs open the front door.

Wedge is standing on the porch, drumsticks in his hand and backpack by his feet.  His other hand is raised as if he’d been about to knock on the door when Luke had opened it, his mouth open in surprise at Luke’s sudden appearance.

“Where’re you going?” Wedge asks, dropping his hand to his side.  His words spill out of his mouth in a big jumble, Brooklyn accent coloring his vowels even though he hasn’t lived in the city in ten years.  With his relaxed posture and the way he lazily twirls his drumsticks, it’s clear why everyone at school thinks he’s a stoner.

(The irony of that situation is that Wedge has never touched a drug in his life.  Well, as far as Luke knows, and Luke’s known Wedge since they were seven.)

“Road trip to see dad,” Luke says, because he doesn’t trust Aunt Beru not to be listening in and he doesn’t want the plan put in jeopardy.  “You wanna come?”

The twirling of the drumsticks stops.  “Serious?”  Wedge asks.  Luke nods.

“My ride’ll be here any - ”

Before he can finish his sentence, a beat-up VW Bus comes careening down the road, going at what is probably top speed.  Wedge turns at the sound of tires squealing, and squints at the van.

“Is that…”

Luke steps outside, slamming the door behind him.  “Yes,” he says, voice low enough that Aunt Beru wouldn’t be able to hear him even if she had her ear pressed to the heavy oak behind him.  Wedge frowns.

“You sure this is a good idea?”

“Wedginald,” Luke says, allowing exasperation to creep into his tone, “when have I ever let you down?”

Wedge pauses for a moment, considering this question, and then shrugs.  “Well, never, I guess.”

“Exactly.  So get in the van, and we’ll worry about any specifics later.”

As soon as he finishes his sentence, the VW bus screeches to a halt, and the back door is thrown open.  Luke throws his suitcase in, pushes Wedge in as well, and then clambers over the mess lying on the floor as he pulls the door shut behind him.

“Hey, kid!”

“Han,” Wedge greets, a little coldly.

“You should drive,” Luke says quickly, “Or else Aunt Beru’ll find out I lied.”

“You _lied_?” Han sounds incredulous, but he hits the gas anyway; Luke almost falls forward at the sudden burst of speed, but he grabs the seat.  Wedge _does_ fall forward, swearing as he bangs his elbow on the door.

“I only lied a little,” Luke says once he’s situated himself back in his seat, guitar case firmly situated between his legs.  “We _are_ going to California, we _are_ going to see my dad, it’s just I didn’t tell her that you were driving me there.”

Han crows with laughter, banging on his steering wheel.  In the passenger’s seat, Chewie laughs and says something rapid in Papiamento that Luke doesn’t catch because even after two years of friendship he only knows a fraction of the language.  Whatever he says only makes Han laugh harder; Wedge casts a confused glance in Luke’s direction.  Well, at least somebody’s as lost as he is.

“What’d he say?” Wedge asks.  Chewie says something vaguely condescending – even if he can’t understand words, Luke’s gotten pretty good at tone – and Han’s laughs falter into chuckles.

“He said that we’ve corrupted Luke,” Han says.  Luke scoffs.

“I’m not _corrupted_.”

“Sure you aren’t, kid.  Well, I guess it’s to California, then.”

“Actually, we have another stop to make.”

Han hits the breaks, turns around to look Luke in the eye, and frowns.  “You didn’t mention anything about that, kid.”

Luke holds up his hands. “Listen, Han, this was all Leia’s idea, not mine.”

The older boy’s brow furrows.  “Leia?”

Luke sighs, dropping his hands back into his lap.  “My twin sister?  We have to go pick her up before we head out west.”

“You have a twin?”

Luke blinks, because has he really never brought up Leia before when he’s with Han?  It seems unlikely, but then again, Luke has a tendency to be forgetful – and Han doesn’t seem like Leia’s type.  Nor does Han seem like Leia’s.  Quite honestly, Luke thinks Leia might kill Han before they even make it to Beverly Hills, which would not be ideal.  He doesn’t think his sister has a license, he _knows_ Wedge doesn’t, and Luke?  The only thing Luke can drive is a tractor.  And he can’t do that well.

“Uh, yeah?” Luke fiddles with the strap on his guitar case, wanting to take it out and play but also not wanting to annoy his best friend.  Well, his best friend besides Wedge.  And Biggs, but Biggs went off to the army a year ago and Luke hasn’t seen or heard from him since then.  “Uncle Bail adopted her when mom died and dad…” he makes a gesture that doesn’t really do a good job of encompassing _left us to work for some CEO and stopped giving a crap about us_.  “I don’t get to see her very often.  I’ve never mentioned her?”

Han shrugs. “You might’ve, kid, I don’t know.”

Luke glances at Wedge, who gives him a look like _what do you want me to do?_ I _know who your sister is._ Which is true; Wedge has crashed enough family Christmases and birthdays that he’s known Leia nearly as long as he’s known Luke.  In fact, Wedge arguably respects Leia more than he respects Luke, but Luke can’t blame him for that.  Leia’s a natural born leader, and she gives off the vibe that she could absolutely _murder_ someone who crossed her.  At the same time, she’s incredibly charming – Wedge likes to say it’s because she’s been raised by a senator.

“Well, she’s real,” Luke says, which is something he _instantly_ regrets saying, because nobody was doubting Leia’s existence and now he’s just made a fool of himself.  “And she’s in Albany, so. Head that way?”

“You’re gonna owe me for this, kid,” Han says.  Luke shrugs, partially because he knows Han won’t dump them halfway across the country and partially because _Leia’s_ the one with the money, not him.  “Fine.  Albany it is.  Chewie, put in a tape.”


	2. beverly hills: that's where i wanna be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the gang picks up leia

Leia’s awoken by a tapping noise.

For a second she thinks it’s Winter, knocking on her door despite the hour, but a moment later she realizes it’s coming from her window.  Frowning, she pads her way over and opens it up, peering out into the gloom.  She sees nothing at first, but then she picks out a blond head.

“ _Luke_?”

Her brother looks up at her through choppily cut bangs, beaming.  “Hey, Leia!  We’re here to rescue you!”

“Why are – were you throwing _rocks_ at my window?”

Luke shoves his hand behind his back, but not before she sees the handful of pebbles he has in his fist.  “I figured – ”

“Why didn’t you just come to the _door_?”

He blinks.  “Aren’t you sneaking out?”

Oh boy.  Leia sighs; her brother is clever, but sometimes he picks the _hardest_ way of doing things.  Sneaking out is necessary sometimes, but not in this instance.  “No, Luke, I’m not sneaking out.  Go around to the front of the house before the dogs wake up, will you?  I’ll let you in after I get dressed.”

Five minutes later, Leia’s dressed and there’s a gaggle of boys standing in her father’s foyer.  Two of them she knows – her brother and Wedge – but the other two are ones she’s never met before.  One is very tall and very hairy, but he seems nice enough behind his massive beard.  The shorter one is… well, maybe _short_ isn’t the right word.   He’s still taller than her brother and Wedge, and the only word Leia can think of to describe him is scruffy.

“Uncle Bail will be down in a minute,” she says.  Nodding to a suitcase, she adds: “Wedge, can you grab that?”

“Sure thing,” he says, grinning at her as he grabs hold of the handle.  “How’s private school?”

She laughs.  “Same as ever.  How’s my brother?”

“You could ask _me_ how I am!” Luke interjects in protest, but Wedge cuts him off.

“Same as ever.”

Luke pouts, but it’s wiped away when Leia pulls him into a tight hug.  “I missed you, little brother,” she says.

“I’m older than you,” he protests. “ _And_ I’m taller.”

“Luke!”  Bail Organa doesn’t yell, but even when speaking softly, his voice carries down the stairs.  Leia releases her brother just in time for her adopted father to wrap him in a firm hug, giving the blond boy three pats on the back before releasing him.  “How have you been?”

“Good, Uncle Bail.”  Luke seems a bit dazed.  Leia wonders if it’s because he had to lie to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru about where he was going.  They’re much stricter than Bail is, but then again Bail knows she can take care of herself.  And that she won’t get caught if she does anything illegal.

Bail’s gaze travels from Luke to Wedge – to whom he nods briefly – to the other two boys in his foyer.  “We haven’t been introduced,” he says politely.

Luke starts, blinking his bright blue eyes and going “Right! Right.  Uncle Bail, these are my friends Han and Chewbacca.  They’re driving us.”

“Oh,” says Bail, nodding at them.  “A pleasure.”

Han’s expression breaks into an uneasy smile, but Chewbacca says something in a language Leia’s never heard.  Bail evidently understands, though, because he says “Oh, yes, I do remember you now – my mistake.  It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Aruba.”

_Aruba?_ That explains the language she doesn’t recognize; Leia’s been on plenty of diplomatic trips with Bail, but none to Aruba.  They go to Europe, mostly, dining with the rich and powerful of France, Italy, and Spain.  They rarely need a translator; Bail went to college to become a diplomat, and he’s impressed on Leia the importance of learning the language and culture of the places she visits.  Thankfully, Leia picks up on languages as easily as her brother picks up on tinkering.

Bail turns back to Leia, his dark eyes crinkling with his smile.  “You,” he says, placing his hands on her shoulders, “Be safe.  You’re smart, and you’re capable, and I will bail you out of jail if I have to” – here he grins – “but I don’t want to have to.  Breha will kill me if she finds out you aren’t just having a road trip with your brother.”  He leans down and kisses the top of her head, adding finally: “And when you do reach Sheev’s house, make sure you don’t miss.  He deserves what’s coming to him.”

“Thank you, Uncle Bail.”

He pulls her into a quick hug, and then gestures them all out the door.  “Goodbye, now,” he says, “Have fun!”

As the door closes behind them, Luke says “Who’s sitting in the back?”, which prompts a race to the run-down van that Leia assumes is Han’s.  Wedge loses; she feels mildly bad about it, but that’s mostly only because she elbowed him in the ribs when he tried to cut her off.  So she and Luke sit next to each other, his guitar case laying across the floor in front of them, and they catch up.  She hasn’t seen him since Christmas – _six months_ – and she knows it’s because Owen and Beru see even more of Anakin in her than they do in Luke.  She may look like her mother, but she knows that the temper that runs hot in her blood is all her father’s.  Of course, she also got her mother’s diplomatic skills and her cool head in a crisis, but that doesn’t matter to Owen.  Luke may have their father’s propensity towards impulse, but impulses are easy to control when you live on a farm in the middle of Nowhere, New York.  A temper?  That’s significantly harder.

Not that she dislikes Owen and Beru; they’re just simpler people than she’s used to, simple people with simple motives who want a simple life for her brother.  But nothing about her and Luke or their parents are simple.  Anakin – their father, as much as she’ll never call him _dad_ again – is an ex-priest who got drafted in ‘Nam alongside Brother Kenobi.  Her mom was in Vietnam too, although Padme was there as a journalist when she fell in love with the handsome pilot.  Leia knows that the marriage was secret, and not even Kenobi knew about it at first, but when Padme started showing signs of pregnancy it was pretty obvious that something had happened. 

So, Anakin had to leave the church, and Padme got married and became a politician to support her new family.  Anakin said at the beginning that he was going to be fine as a stay-at-home dad, but then Sheev got his claws into her father and he… _changed_.  Not too much at first, but Leia remembers her pre-Palpatine father and the post-Palpatine version is a monster in comparison.  Pre-Palpatine Anakin Skywalker would never have abandoned his children after their mother was assassinated, but the man he became certainly did.  And then he had the nerve to ask the court for visitation – which he uses for Luke far more than he does for Leia.  Not that Leia minds; the last time she saw her father, she ended up grounded for half of the two-week visitation period because she was _disrespectful_ to Mr. Tarkin.

Never mind that Mr. Tarkin is a creep who honestly strikes Leia as a pervert – if the constant discomfort on his secretary’s face is anything to go by.  So, maybe she _accidentally_ spilled her Tab on him at her father’s fancy dinner.  And maybe she then tipped his red wine onto him in a bid to hand him her napkin.  She tried to tell her dad that she’s just clumsy, but he hadn’t bought it – and she’d spent a week confined to the house (mostly her room, because it was the only place she could get away from the corporate shitheads).

“So, how’s the band going?” she asks her brother, nodding at his guitar.  From the front seat, Han scoffs.

“You were serious about the band thing, kid?”

Luke flushes, shrugs, and says “Yeah, I was serious.  It’s going – okay, I guess.  It’s hard to get gigs when Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru are so protective.”

“I’ve started calling him _Rapunzel_ ,” Wedge interjects.  Luke turns just enough in his seat to throw a candy bar wrapper in his best friend’s face.

“Shut up, Wedginald.”

“You _know_ that’s not my name!”

Luke shrugs, trying and failing to keep a straight face.  Instead he breaks into a gleeful smile, letting out a laugh at Wedge’s affronted expression.

“What _is_ your name, anyway?” Han asks.

“It’s Reginald,” Leia answers, grinning as Wedge scrunches up his nose in disgust.  He hates his full name almost as much as he hates Luke’s bastardization of it.

“ _Reginald_ ?  No wonder you’re so stuck up.”

“ _Hey_ !” Wedge protests, “I’m not stuck up.”  A pause, and then to Luke: “Am I?”

Luke shakes his head. “Nah.”

“So,” Han asks as he changes lanes, heading for the on-ramp to the highway, “How did Reginald become Wedge?”

“…My baby sister couldn’t pronounce Reg when she was a kid.  Couldn’t pronounce R’s at all, really, so Reg became Wedge.”

“Huh,” Han says, and even though he asked the question he sounds completely uninterested in the answer.

“Hey,” Leia says, “Did any of you think about where we’re going to spend the night?”

Silence descends upon the van, and Wedge twists in his seat to pin Luke with a flat gaze.  He squirms, blushing bright red.  “Um.  No?”

Leia sighs.

“Wait,” Luke says, “If we make it back home then I’m sure Ben will let us stay with him.”

“Who’s Ben?” Han asks, then, “What, _Father_ Ben? That old coot?”

“He’s not a coot,” Luke says defensively, and Leia agrees: Ben’s a lot of things – old being one of them – but he’s not _foolish_.

“Father Ben the priest?” Wedge pipes up, a note of disbelief in his voice.  “Luke, do you know when the last time I went to church was?”

“When?” Leia asks.

“When I lived in the city.”

Leia laughs loudly, and Luke grins a little at the sound.  “ _Of course_.”

“Well, do any of you have any better ideas?  We have limited money, so we should avoid motels as much as possible, right?”

Han rolls his eyes.  “Fine, kid.  We’ll go sleep at a church if that’ll make you more comfortable.”

“ _Thank_ you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can also find me on tumblr at puckiety.tumblr.com !


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